Our Sanctuary
by Attero
Summary: My parents named me Sparrow, after the Latin term, "spero" — to hope. Despair overcame the world over twenty years ago, and after the failure of the Soldiers of Hope, a power struggle to become the new leader of despair began. Take your pick of which mutual killing you want to watch; they're no rare occasion by now. Of course, I just had to be forced into one of them. [SYOC OPEN]
1. Act 0: Prologus

Flip through the channels on the television and refer to your broadcast guide for the air times of each mutual killing. You'll find a short informational on each game in the back of your guide, giving you the location and complete student roster of the mutual killing you're watching. If you really want to spoil yourself, you can call in to the station and ask who the mastermind is as well, though I've never been one to do that.

My parents named me Sparrow, after the Latin term, "spero" — to hope. _Now that's a strange name, _you might say, but it's quite fitting, if not ironic, for the times we're in. I suppose my parents decided on it before _it _all happened. They must have, because after everyone fell into despair, no one would ever come up with such a hopeful name. Not if they wanted to live, anyways.

For sixteen years, I've been alive in this world.

Despair took over Japan—no, the _world_—over twenty years ago. Twenty two, if you want an exact number. A select few still talk about what the world was like when they were children—when there was still _hope_—but most don't even mention it. Twenty two years ago, a girl by the name of Enoshima Junko locked a bunch of class council members in a school, promised to let them leave only if they killed a fellow member and got away with it, and ran the first ever game of mutual killing. Not too long after that ended (and I should mention it ended rather quickly), she ran the game again, only with her own classmates whose minds had been wiped clean of their high school memories.

Enoshima Junko participated in that second game, and died by the end of it.

Her death left a massive void in the rule of the despairing world. A leader was needed, to keep the world from recovering and getting back its hope before despair could settle into the cracks. Naturally, when there's a gap in power, people tend to fight over it.

Her replacements were supposed to be a group of children named, "The Soldiers of Hope". Their leader, a paraplegic girl by the name of Monaka, tried to create "Enoshima Junko II", a suitable, if not even more despairing version of the original Junko. She failed, which isn't really surprising when you consider the fact that Junko left her legacy up to a group of elementary school children. There are rumors that Monaka is dead now, like the other "Soldiers of Hope", but no one really knows. I sure as hell hope they're dead.

I should also mention the Ultimate Despairs. You could consider them Junko's henchmen, because when she threw the world into despair, they were right there beside her, laughing in the face of everyone's misery. Who knew a group of kids could be so destructive? Well, after their beloved leader's death, it wasn't long before they all vanished. According to the whispers of my past classmates, they were kidnapped by an organization named the "Future Foundation" and subjected to high-tech brainwashing in an effort to save them and bring them back to hope.

The so-called "Future Foundation" fell years ago. I remember seeing it on the news, when I was around six or seven years old. A bunch of its leaders, including survivors from the game that killed Enoshima, had been killed while attempting a rescue mission on the remaining Ultimate Despairs. The newscasters reported it with dark enthusiasm, as though it were a miracle that the world was finally rid of its disgusting _hope. _People exchanged wicked grins and haughty shouts between one another. The streets were lined with corpses that day, in tribute to Enoshima Junko's glory. For a little while after that, maybe a few weeks at most, there was just a bit more excitement in the world.

Despair seemed to have evolved over time, from chaos into a state of numbness. From the photographs I've seen, I can't imagine ever being able to survive in a time when riots and nonsensical violence roamed the streets. In one photograph, an entire city was burning, each building lit up by a very visible glow from the inside. Enoshima Junko must have been one hell of a senseless bitch, because destruction leaves the city in ruins, and allows few survivors. If she really wanted to spread despair, she should have left more of them to face the situation afterwards. They'd suffer more if they were all starving to death or dying of their injuries.

Our current system is similar to those tales the "hopeful" ones always tell, the stories of a world before despair. According to them, the world was just like it is now, but everyone was kind to each other. Corpses, and even splatters of blood, were rare sights. Hell, they say people even _cried _over a death they'd only heard about in the news. Sounds like bullshit if you ask me, though Lantern seems to fully endorse the concept. I can see why they'd endorse it, with all of those storytellers in there.

Lantern is an organization that came up a few years after the Future Foundation fell. It primarily consists of older generations, ones who haven't forgotten hope and want to restore the world to its "former glory", though there are a few younger recruits as well. The name, Lantern, generally comes off as strange to those who hear it. It's not as impactful as a name like "Future Foundation", but they claim to be the light shining through the darkness, the hope that breaks the despair. They're secretive, which is to be expected in a world almost entirely controlled by despair, but there are ways to get in if you know the right people. At first, this may seem like an easy way for despairs to infiltrate the party, but Lantern works in strange ways.

They contact all their members individually. There are several divisions in the organization, and no single person has influence on more than one. Orders are passed directly from one commander to their subordinate, and to no one else. Don't even think about listening in on communications, because Lantern doesn't have a central communication hub. If a despair _were _to infiltrate, they'd receive only petty orders.

Naturally, they've become the world's prime targets. If you find out about someone who has associated with them, you're to report them to the Shades right away.

The Shades are just official despair enforcement. After the world was consumed by despair, the term "despairs" became too common to differentiate between high ranking officials and normal citizens who had fallen into despair. As a mocking contrast to Lantern, official despairs named themselves the "Shades". They work directly under… well, whoever the fuck's in charge right now. All I know is, they take orders from higher up, and don't seem to question them.

I got a good idea of their work ethic when they barged into my rundown apartment one evening and took me away. They aren't just your typical baseball bat wielding, Monokuma mask gangsters. No, of course not, they're the official enforcers of despair. They've got to be as merciless and hostile as possible, and I was no exception.

Those who are reported to have hope, who go against the well-established ways of despair, are the outcasts. That's who I am.

That's why I sat in a prison cell for a month, alone except for the occasional guard dropping off a tray of sloppily made food.

Because I had _hope. _

And now, I'm sitting in the back of a truck, steel handcuffs clasped around my wrists and an ankle cuff tethering me to the bench I'm sitting on. There's barely any light coming in from the ventilation holes on the raise up door, but there's just enough to make out the shape of another girl sitting across from me on a separate bench. Her form is relaxed, so I assume she was sedated by the guards before we left the prison. They only use sedatives on the _really _rowdy inmates, so I'm praying she doesn't wake up before we get to our destination, but more than anything, I feel like I understand her. She and I are the only two people in the back of this truck, and we've both been condemned to the same shitty situation.

I got a good look at her when we were being loaded into the truck, back at the prison. She's got long, straight hair that falls all the way down to her waist. In the current light, I'd swear it was black, but I know it's really just an incredibly dark red. She's got an open, red collared jacket with thick black horizontal stripes, and I mean _thick, _there are only six black and red stripes in total. Beneath that is a dark grey shirt and maroon shorts, as well as black ankle high boots. I couldn't tell if her shirt was long or short sleeved, since her jacket was covering it, but I did see that she was wearing some belts. Over all of this was a dark tattered black cloak, so thin it was partially translucent. Two gun holsters were attached to two separate belts, though they were empty, the weapons no doubt confiscated.

The empty holsters cause me to vaguely wonder what talent she's been branded with.

Those who are caught believing in hope, or are associated with hope, are branded with "Ultimate" talents. Typically, this talent relates to the actions of the individual and who they are in general, as a person, their identity, etc.. I'd once heard that before, having an Ultimate talent was a title highly sought after. Well, whatever it was in the past, it's not something you want to have now. Now, it means you'll soon have to participate in a game of mutual killing.

That's exactly where we're going. This truck is going to take us to our killing grounds, where we'll be broadcast on television as the producers try and get better ratings by subjecting us to various amounts of physical and psychological torture. Physical pain and screaming no longer does it for the audiences. It's become a cliche now, to use the students' secrets as a motive, or threaten to torture their loved ones. Every host, every producer, is looking for that "new thing" that will send their broadcasted killing to the top of the rating charts. In a rare case, the students themselves will make the game interesting.

We're just pieces in their game. Marionettes, whose strings can be cut at a moment's notice.

I was branded as the "Ultimate Vigilante". It's not that far off from what I would have chosen, had I been given a choice in the matter, but it does make me sound like a hero, which I detest. I strayed from the path of despair, sure, but I never thought I'd be called a _vigilante _of all things.

Suddenly, I see a faint red glow in the dim light. The girl across from me has cracked an eye open, causing her red eyes to stand out in the shadows. Many people wear red contacts for "cosmetic despair", but I have a feeling that hers are genuine. She doesn't speak, nor move, she just sits there motionlessly, watching me. I briefly worry that she's the type to start screeching and thrashing after I speak, but I do it anyways.

My voice is a bit raspy from disuse, and muffled by the rumbling of the truck, but it's otherwise clear. "Hello," I say.

That red eye just keeps on staring. She moves, and I flinch, already over predicting her moves. All she's done is lean back on her bench, her handcuffs clinking against each other gently.

"Greetings comrade," she answers in a cool, smooth voice. I swear, if it was possible to _hear _smirks, I would be hearing one right now. I can't help but feel that she's been watching me for a while.

She fazes me, but I lower my own voice, which is similar to hers in both smoothness and tone, and try again. "Who are you?"

"Must you know?"

"No," I reply curtly. "But I'd like to. We're going to be in the same mutual killing, after all."

She considers this for a moment before I hear her try to cross her arms, only to be stopped by the restraints around her wrists. "... one would be considered rude," she responds at last. "If they were to ask for another's name without first giving their own."

There's something in her tone that says, _I'm not just going to give away my identity. _She's intelligent, definitely. A lot of times in broadcasts, I've seen some of the more excitable students in the killings just run up to the other participants and give their names and life's stories away. It's not particularly dangerous, but there's something that tells me you shouldn't associate with the people _who are trying to kill you. _

"Sparrow," I answer, hoping she'll give me her name if I give her mine.

She scoffs. "I requested the name given to you at birth, not your codename nor whatever alias of yours that may be."

"It's no codename. That's my birth name: Sparrow Mayurida."

There's a pause in our conversation. "Intriguing," she comments. By the way she says it, I have a feeling she doesn't entirely believe me. "Very well. A name for a name then. My name is Jun."

Jun, huh? That's an interesting unisex name. In translation, it means "truth", which makes me wonder whether her talent is associated with honesty. I draw a breath to ask her what talent she's been branded with, but I'm stopped short by the loud screech of the truck's brakes. Despairs really hold no regard for traffic laws. Not like they regarded laws in general though.

I hear Shades climbing out of the front of the truck, and by the way their voices are nearing us, there's no doubt that they're coming to let us out. I look at Jun, and she says nothing, only sparing me a side glance before she stares at the truck door for the inevitable. The Shades are chatting amongst themselves, probably waiting for the signal that says to go ahead and release us. Broadcasters typically like to unchain us all at once. It makes us look more unified, and the looks of surprise on people's faces when they finally see their killing grounds combine to make a good montage.

I hold my breath. Finally, there's a pause in the chatter outside. They must be confirming the order with their higher ups. Someone grabs onto the handle of the slide up door, and it causes the panel to rattle noisily as Jun and I wait. There's a quiet countdown outside, because they don't want the cameras to take in the production noise, but it eventually hits zero, as most countdowns do.

The back of the truck unlocks, and the door is pulled up to reveal our new killing grounds.

* * *

><p>AN: Hello there, I hope you all enjoyed the prologue. As most of you have likely read from the story's summary, this is an SYOC. I'll do my best with it, and the form will be on my profile, but please do follow a few rules when submitting.

Do not submit any reused or recycled characters. This also includes just renaming your old character and trying to submit them. Please, don't do that.

Do not submit any characters through reviews, there are too many spoilers in regards to secrets and what not. PMs only, please.

I won't reserve slots (how can you tell if your character will make it in for sure?) but feel free to shoot me a PM saying you're going to submit; that way I won't make final decisions too early.

Suggestion: Canon talents are permitted, but your character is less likely to be chosen. There are tons of hackers/archers/artists out there. See what you can come up with.

Suggestion: This story takes place in Japan, so hopefully a majority of the submissions will be Japanese, though I'm sure the despairs would have no problem dragging someone over from the other side of the world. If your character is NOT Japanese, please put that in the "Other" section.

Without further ado, here's the form:

Name (first, last):

Age (10-30):

Ultimate/Talent (remember, they are BRANDED this; it is not necessarily what they want to be, though it is based off of their skills/visible traits):

Gender:

Appearance (including clothing; specific heights/weights aren't needed, just "tall" or "average height", natural facial expressions and posture are nice too):

Personality (the less you put, the more I'll self-interpret; list quirks and special traits here as well please):

Speech Pattern/Mannerisms (stutter, quiet voice, put their hands in their pockets?; describing your character's voice helps as well):

Family (family members, what happened to their family? remember, almost everyone has fallen to despair):

Backstory (general history, what hopeful things did they do to get captured, how long were they imprisoned, how did they react to despair?):

Skills (what are they good at):

Likes:

Dislikes:

Reaction to "Ultimate" Title/Imprisonment:

Role During Investigation/Trials:

Other:


	2. Act 1: Initium I

The first thing I see—well, no, the first thing that _blinds _me—is the bright light pouring into the back of the truck. I raise both my arms to shield my eyes from the light, since raising just one arm would be impossible due to the handcuffs, but it doesn't help all that much. Next to me, I see Jun's silhouette making the same instinctive movement as she gets to her feet.

This light could mean an infinite number of possible locations. They could be the florescent beams of an all-too-sterile hospital, or a mangled wire trap that we'll have to survive in as we fight for the chance to graduate, or the laser pillars of some highly technological sci-fi theme where we stand on gravity-suspended platforms, or a… a garden?

As my eyes adjust to the light, I have to do a double take to make sure I'm correct. Behind the two monochrome-masked Shades undoing Jun and I's restraints, I see rows upon rows of the most beautiful flower beds and greenery I've ever seen, all surrounded in a spacious square of well-trimmed hedges. There's a vibrant display of reds and whites, blues and purples. Roses and lilacs. Not a single petal in this damn place seems to be drooping. Hell, I must've died and gone to that one place people always whispered about. I think its name was something like "heaven", but I don't really remember anymore. The flora by itself is unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it, not even in old photographs.

After undoing our restraints, the Shades slink off again. A muted voice in the back of my head tells me that their behavior's unusual and I should be alert since they usually lead the students somewhere, but damn, I couldn't care less right now. My head is raised, and subconsciously, I step out of the truck. I hear Jun follow suit, and I think she's as mystified as I am.

Above us is a clear, sunny blue sky. Fuck, I really have died and gone to paradise, haven't I? It's a _clear_, _sunny blue _sky. _Clear _skies. The _sun _shining. These aren't things I'm used to seeing, and it doesn't take me long to realize that the sunlight is why it's so bright out here. I've never seen a sunny or clear-skied day before in my life. Supposedly after despair took over, the skies were intentionally polluted with smog and filled with artificial thunderstorms and rain clouds. Natural weather was too much of a luxury. Too hopeful. As I stare up at the airy sky, I realize why the despairs would go out of their way to prevent this from happening. Hah. It really does give me a sense of hope.

An ornate fountain in the center of the garden fills the area with the sound of splashing. Mixed in with this splashing, I hear the truck's engine, and I turn around just in time to see it drive up a ramp into a wall before the wall closes again and forms a tight seal, as if the gap never existed. _It's a gap, _you might say, but it's no escape route. Students in the past have tried tampering with the doors, and to no avail. Where the Shades go, I have no idea, but I'm more confused as to why Jun and I seem to be the only ones here. Typically, the class would all be gathered in one area, either for introductions or to meet their new "headmaster".

I turn to Jun with an eyebrow raised, and she reflects the same confused look back at me with those bright red eyes of hers. We've been left alone here, strangely enough.

I pinch myself on my newly uncuffed wrists, just to make sure that I'm not dreaming—that I haven't been knocked out with some strange gas or anesthetic. This location is _very _out of place. Most killing grounds are dark and dreary, meant to induce despair and bring the participants to their knees before the game even starts. There have been themes of nice places, but sick and twisted, like beaches filled with deadly ash instead of sand or amusement parks full of mutilated animatronics.

The garden in front of us isn't like that though. Everything about it screams _hope._

Jun walks over to one of the flower beds and kneels down, her long reddish-black hair falling onto the ground due to its length and her posture. She studies a patch of what I think are lilies for a while, before cupping one of the flowers gently in her hand and giving it a sniff. To my surprise, she doesn't fall over or shudder or anything like that, even though I expected the flowers to be poisoned in some cruel twist. She beckons me over with a wave of her other hand, and though I know I shouldn't trust someone who will soon be trying to kill me, I kneel down next to her in the grass.

"Real flowers," she tells me, and she nudges the lily over to me so that I can lean down and smell it. I do so, still wary that she'll suddenly bash my head into the ground and start choking me out, but I'm pleasantly surprised. Not only does Jun not attempt to kill me, but she's right. I've never smelled anything like it before. It's fragrant, not too strong, and it's wonderful.

I think Jun sees the look of childish wonder on my face, because she smiles at me before standing up and turning away, no doubt trying to hide her unstoic expression. I pluck the lily from its stem (thankfully its remains don't spew acid at me), and continue to take in its aroma as I scan the garden for a way out. The hedges are too tall to see over and form a large square around us, with a gap in each wall and more hedge behind that.

"We're supposed to find our way out?" I ask Jun, who's circling the fountain that has some weird winged lizard on it, but seemingly not finding anything else of interest.

"It would appear so."

She stops walking and after the sound of her footsteps in the grass fades away, I notice a faint tinkling sound approaching us from behind one of the hedges. I turn and immediately take a ready stance, fearful of whatever our headmaster may have sent after us and ready to fight if needed. Jun has done the same and her position is flawless, alerting me that she's no stranger to combat. She frowns when she catches me staring at her, shooting me a dirty glare that seems to say, _keep your eyes on the enemy, fool._

It doesn't take long for the source of the noise to round the corner of the hedge, and when I see it, I'm tempted to lower my guard. The source is a tiny ball of blue light, easily small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. There are two of them, likely one for each of us, but they don't increase in speed when we should be right in their line of sight… if these things even _have _sight, that is.

Since I'm closer, one floats right up to my face while the other approaches my temporary partner. I feel the urge to bat the thing away due to its proximity to my eyes, but I don't in case it shocks me or impales me or… whatever the fuck the headmaster told it to do. Inside its bright glow, I see a structure that looks somewhat like a stick figure with wings. The wings must be how it's kept itself in the air.

"Pixies," Jun remarks, the other… _thing _having stopped in front of her face.

"Pi-ku-shi-su?" I sound it out in syllables, the other word Jun said sounding foreign to me. "The hell are you talking about?"

Jun is much braver than me and plucks the thing straight out of the air. She pinches it by the wings and it stops fluttering, the blue light also dissipating and revealing its thin mechanical structure.

"This creature," She points to the thing in her hand. "Is a pixie."

I'm certain I've never heard that word before. Sounds like it would belong in some child's magical story—a "fairy tale" as some called it—but those definitely aren't told anymore. I stare at her blankly, and she stares back.

"A pixie? A faerie? A _sprite_? Heathen, do tell me you recognize at least one of those words?"

I don't respond because I don't know what to say, and she shakes her head in disappointment, muttering something about people not travelling enough and keeping the tales of the past alive. Hell, she sounds like one of those storytellers from Lantern, though she can't possibly be that old. She doesn't even look like she's in her twenties yet.

Before I can even register what's happening, Jun picks me up by the scruff of my ashen long coat and drags me over to the fountain like I'm a stray dog that's gotten into trouble. My "pixie" follows behind us, and Jun's is still pinched loosely between her fingers. She tosses me into the grass next to the fountain and I scowl, disliking that I've just been treated like some small child.

Jun forces me to look at the statue on the fountain, glaring at me with those vibrant red eyes of hers until I do so. It's a weird, winged lizard-looking thing and I don't see anything special about it until she explicitly explains it to me.

"Dragon," she says bluntly. Oh great, another weird ass word.

"Do-ra-go-n." My mouth awkwardly shapes out the sounds again.

Jun furrows her brow and is no doubt frustrated by my lack of exposure to this kind of stuff. I have to admire her patience though. Instead of giving up, she thinks for a while, tapping her free hand on her chin before giving me a pronunciation in easier syllables. "I believe the Japanese term for it is _'dragon'._"

The new term she's said makes me cock my head at her. It's composed of normal syllables, and it's not some new foreign word that requires the use of katakana to sound out. "Huh? This shit's Japanese?" I ask her.

She nods in confirmation, then comments quietly, "It is disappointing to hear that you do not know of your own country's past culture."

Well it's not my fucking fault the world went to shit before I was born.

There's a long pause as my frustration over this thought builds. It's not my fault. Why the fuck is she disappointed in _me?_ I…

_I wanted to be happy too._

Disgusting. That was a weak thought. A weak, useless thought that I should rid my mind of before I get killed! I end up snarling at her, "What? And _you _do? Are you even old enough to know what the world was like before despair came in?!"

Jun looks at me. She blinks calmly, unfazed by my anger.

"No," she replies simply. "but there are ways to obtain such knowledge. Traveling outside of the city, for example. You should try it, should you be the one to escape this death trap."

Her choice of words is so unsettling it snaps me out of my rage. Should _I _be the one to escape this death trap, not _we_. She's right. If we aren't all executed or murdered in the process, only one of the two of us will make it out.

I've made a mistake in forgetting that she's my enemy, not my friend, and she should feel the same.

I walk away from the fountain, frowning bitterly all the while, and Jun doesn't pursue. There's really no reason for us to stick together anymore now that we've been released into our enclosure. Hell, we were only together in the first place because we were chained to the benches in that damn truck. Leaving the red-and-black-stripe jacketed girl behind, I decide to go through one of the gaps in the hedge and see what I can find.

From the right angled corners and height of the greenery, it seems that we've been dropped off in some sort of maze and need to find our way out. Unfortunately for me, the "pixie" stays nearby as I look around, drifting behind me in a slow manner and producing that irritating tinkling noise that just showers my thoughts with mental glitter. Since I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be going, I make several arbitrary turns but keep an eye out for any traps that may have been set in my path.

Speaking of directions, where the hell are our ElectroIDs? Most, if not all mutual killings pass out their ElectroIDs as soon as the students are released from their confinements. Fuck. Just my luck to get a disorganized and eccentric mastermind, though I suppose I do like their choice of setting. As I cautiously turn a corner and scan the ground for any tripwires or landmines, I barely catch the sound of footsteps approaching me from around the next corner. It can't possibly be Jun, because Jun's either back at the garden or behind me.

Shit, shit, shit! I realize now that what she did was much smarter, stopping her pixie from flying and all. Not only has this _thing _been hindering my own hearing, but it's practically a beacon that tells the others where I am. The person approaching me also has a pixie with them. Another student…?

The very concept of this game has made me paranoid. Since we're alone right now, they could kill me and I could easily be the first victim. I ready myself, and when the person rounds the corner, I just barely stop myself from striking them in the face through the adrenaline rush I'm getting.

It's just a boy, a bit shorter and very likely younger than me. His hair is a light shade of brown (a shade that reminds me of chocolate milk) and falls past his ears to his chin on the sides. A drab light gray t-shirt is layered over his muddy white long sleeves, and he's wearing a pair of brown walking shorts.

He's not very muscular or well built at all, so I subconsciously label him an easy target. His face is boyish and playful, but he stares confidently at me with those steely gray eyes of his and smiles all the while, giving him an air of smugness. What catches my eyes the most are the mangled scars that wrap around his neck. They haven't fully healed, informing me that they're fresh, inflicted maybe a few weeks ago at most. Hell, I wonder what the Shades did to this poor kid…

I cautiously take a step back. You need to be wary of everyone in this game—even the innocent looking ones. He tilts his head at my action but doesn't come towards me. Good.

"... are you another student?" I ask him.

He doesn't respond with words, but reaches his hand into the pocket of his shorts and digs around for a bit, causing me to back up in case he draws a weapon. Typically, students aren't allowed to bring anything with them incase it gives them an advantage, but our headmaster has proven themselves to be an exception. I'm relieved when he only pulls out a pencil and notepad and begins scribbling furiously on the paper.

When he's done, he flips the notepad around and shows it to me.

_Yes._

_Yuuma Inoue. That is my name._

I raise my eyebrows at this and relax my stance. Even if he does try and attack me, I should be able to fend him off. I'm more curious as to why he's writing instead of speaking.

"You can't speak?" Normally, I would speak in a lower voice to keep from giving our location away, but the pixies are already doing that. Yuuma scribbles another message back to me.

_Can. But prefer not to._

A selective mute, huh? Well he'll be a pain to deal with later on. When we get to the trials, he'll either have to speak up or someone will have to make sure he's noticed. There's no way in hell he'll be listened to otherwise. Most trials are filled with students screaming their heads off and getting nowhere. It's usually against the rules to physically harm each other in the trial room, which is why the tension and frustration builds until the court is in utter chaos.

A thought crosses my mind as I consider who our other classmates are, "Yuuma, didn't you arrive with a partner?"

He writes again. His notepad has plenty of pages, so I assume he'll be set for the rest of the game. There'll probably be stationary in our rooms for him to use as well.

_Loner. Went off to investigate by himself._

Hm, so his partner's like me. He follows up with a question of his own.

_Name? Who are you?_

I hesitate. Do I really want to give him my name? I suppose I owe him something in return since he's given me his. "Sparrow, spelled like the bird."

He looks at me skeptically, though the quiet smile on his face doesn't change.

_Strange. Sounds like a lie._

"Well that's what it is," I growl. Not my problem it seems like a stage name. "That's too damn bad for you if you won't believe me."

Yuuma's metallic gray eyes light up. Is he actually taking _pleasure _in my frustration? Jeez, the quiet ones are always the sadists, aren't they…

As I scowl at Yuuma's enjoyment, I hear yet another pixie approaching our location. Fuck, we really need to subdue these noise machines. Immediately, I snatch mine out of the air and it goes limp, but when I go to grab Yuuma's, it struggles, and I mean _struggles._

Have you ever tried to keep two really strong magnets apart from each other? Yeah? Well that's what holding this fucking pixie is like.

I pull my hand back, Yuuma's pixie in my grasp, and hell, it feels like my fucking fingers are about to break from the force it's exerting. This thing is trying to get near Yuuma by any means possible, struggling and thrashing violently in my hand until I finally let it go and it glides back to Yuuma, who has been grinning cheekily throughout my endeavor.

"_Grab it," _I hiss, hearing the third pixie crawl closer. The chocolate-haired boy hastily stuffs his notepad back into his pocket and pinches his pixie with ease, shooting me a smirk. I would love to teach him a very _violent _lesson right now, but the new student is rounding the corner and I'm standing at the ready.

Surprisingly, it's not one student, but two. Two males, the skinny pale boy in the back having silenced his pixie and concealed his presence.

I jump backwards out of caution and reveal myself, but they don't seem to be looking for a fight. Spooked by my sudden appearance, the shorter boy in front almost trips over his own feet as he stumbles. The male in the back just stares at us expressionlessly, holding his pixie by the very tip of its wings as if he wants nothing to do with it.

"H-Hi there," the short boy stammers, clutching his black beret in his hands. He recovers quickly and smiles in a friendly manner at me.

He's got edgy dark brown hair that just barely touches his ears, and his slim build means he's just another easy target. As for attire, he's wearing a black t-shirt with a white star on the front and a black vest that's long enough to reach his legs. A pair of tattered capri shorts and black and blue converse complete his fashionable look, suggesting that he hasn't been given some combat-related Ultimate.

Yuuma quickly writes something down and displays it to them.

_Hello. You two are?_

The older boy in the back speaks before the other can answer. His voice is soft, supportive of his lonesome appearance. Boring gray eyes and obsidian hair that's slicked back, with skin so pale it's obvious he doesn't get out much. His graying sneakers are worn, but the rest of his clothes look pretty good, his black vest and tie in decent condition, and his white dress shirt neat, albeit a little dusty. His pants are monochrome as well—plain black slacks with a white stripe running down the outer sides. Everything about him is dull, dull, dull.

"He can't speak," he observes, his voice devoid of emotion. I wonder if Yuuma is uncomfortable from the unwavering eye contact this guy is making. "Clearly, we are your classmates."

"I think he wanted our names," the younger boy quickly mends. "I'm Seren. It's very nice to meet you."

Seren extends a warm hand to me but all I do is stare at it. The fuck is _this_? Is he gonna electrocute me? Has he got a needle ready to inject deadly poison into my bloodstream? Hell no, that's a chance I'm not taking. I shoot a dark glare at him and he wavers, visibly flustered as he retracts his hand.

Yuuma punches me gently on the arm to get my attention. His brow is furrowed but he's still smiling as he shows me,

_Friends. It's nice to have them._

He then proceeds to offer his hand to Seren, who receives the gesture happily as Yuuma flashes me another smirk. I look to the older boy again, who is observing the scene with an unusual amount of concentration.

"And you?" I ask him as the two morons next to us continue their 'friendly' introductions. "I'm Sparrow, if you want a name for a name."

"Iwao." He deadpans. "Just call me Iwao."

Iwao… the name seems vaguely familiar, but then again, a lot of things do. Rumors and whispers spread around the slums quickly since people are always wanting to destroy the reputations of others. I might as well ask while we're still here. "Have I met you somewhere before?"

Iwao shakes his head, but his hair is so gelled that it doesn't budge. "If you had, then you must have been too trivial for me to remember. I don't remember ever meeting you before."

Something in the back of my mind tells me that I should be offended at being called 'trivial', but in my line of work, it's better to go unnoticed.

"Hey," Seren says cheerily. (How the fuck is he so carefree? We're in a game of mutual killing.) "This place is really amazing, isn't it?"

Iwao's eyes flash up to the sky, then back down. "It's suspicious. We should have met our headmaster by now, or at least all gathered together."

_Unusual. Too pretty for mutual killing. _Yuuma writes.

"I agree, but I'd rather be here than in some psychopath's deathtrap," I say.

"Exactly!" Seren agrees. "We're lucky to have such a kind mastermind."

Yuuma looks at him. _Kind? Mutual killings aren't kind._

"Well… kinder than most others, anyways." He scratches his cheek sheepishly. "I mean, just look at these glowing things! They're pretty nice."

"They're trackers. Possibly replacements for our ElectroIDs." Iwao says. He's inspecting his own carefully, picking at it like a wealthy person would pick at their food. "I would stay away from them."

I scoff. "Easier said than done. These things are like fucking magnets." Yuuma snickers at my comment, causing me to glare.

"Has anyone found a way out of the maze?" Seren asks. Yuuma and I shake our heads and Seren turns to Iwao. "What about you, Iwao?"

"You truly are unintelligent, aren't you? I've been with you since we exited that truck."

"O-Oh right," Seren stumbles, clutching onto his vest. "My bad."

Yuuma scribbles something. _Exit. We should find it first._

I agree. I doubt our confines are limited to this maze and I like to get my bearings before doing anything else. Seeing how we're at an intersection, I propose an idea, "Let's split up. We can all go down a different path and call if we find the exit."

"And attract everyone else to our location? That's foolish." Iwao admonishes.

"Fine then," I sneer. "To each their own."

Yuuma snaps his fingers, drawing our attention to his notebook. Just as I thought, if an argument begins, he could very well go unnoticed.

_Partners. Why not go with them?_

"Because you never want to travel in pairs in a fucking killing game," I hiss. "Say one person chooses to kill the other. There are no witnesses, and if it's a clean kill, the culprit is home free."

"You don't have to look at everyone as a killer!" Seren exclaims. I fight the urge to tell him he's already an easy target, and that his mindset only makes him even weaker.

"Better safe than sorry," is what I end up saying, but I can't hide the harshness in my tone. It's enough to make him back off and none of them press the issue further.

_Here. I will go this way. _Yuuma stands at the left side of the intersection. Seren stands to the right, and Iwao is on the opposite side of me.

"I'll see you all later then." I nod, even though I know that statement may not be true. They all nod back, Seren saying a brief parting, and then we split up.

I walk down my assigned path, and the sound of Yuuma's and Seren's pixies eventually fade into the distance. To be honest, I'm not really sure where I'm going, or how well thought out this plan is. It's been far too long to remember what direction I went in when I split with Jun, and nothing on the ground or in the hedges gives me any landmarks to go off of. My pixie is still pinched in my hand since I've learned by now that it attracts far too many people and needs to be kept subdued. I've been lucky up until now since I haven't run into anyone too dangerous, but I can't keep taking chances.

Making a left turn at the nearest intersection really doesn't change anything. These damn pathways all look the same, with their tall hedge walls and grassy paths. Hell, there's not even a branch that sticks out or a flower that tells me I've been here before. Maybe I've been walking in circles? It's been a good twenty minutes or so since we split up. As I retrace my steps in my head, I swear I hear the faintest tinkling behind me...

I whirl around immediately and find a ghastly black-haired girl diving at me with a knife in her hand, clearly aiming to harm me. I turn to avoid a direct hit but the blade slices cleanly through my coat and slashes my left shoulder, causing me to gasp. Where the fuck did she get that knife?!

She draws her knife back to slash again, but hell if I'm just gonna sit around and wait for her to kill me! Kicking the grass up from under me, I start sprinting away. I hear her pixie a short distance behind me, telling me that she's decided to pursue, and from its volume I can tell she's not too far behind. Shit, shit, shit! That faint noise earlier must have been her releasing her pixie so she could attack me!

I dash around corners and down various pathways in an attempt to lose her. Since my own pixie has been released and I don't exactly have time to snatch it out of the air right now, my options are limited. If I try and hide, she'll easily find me through the unique noise and the blood trail I'm leaving from my wound. I need to find someone else—no, _two _others in case she makes it a double murder.

I think she's catching up to me, but if I do die, I'll make sure she has one hell of an execution. I make up my mind to chance it and silently hope there are other students nearby who will hear me. Risking my speed and my breath, I look behind me.

"Long black hair and red eyes!" I yell. She keeps following me, but I catch the faintest look of confusion on her pallid face.

"Black clothing, lolita: skirt and blouse!"

"Black hat!"

"All frilly!"

She stops when she realizes what I'm doing, which is good because I'm out of breath by now from running and yelling at the same time.

If you yell out what your murderer looks like and your corpse is found shortly afterwards, the culprit will almost certainly be caught. It's a benevolent technique that's been utilized by several victims in various mutual killings, sometimes used to make sure the culprit gets their just punishment, but mostly so the others won't fail the trial and all be executed. Obviously, I'm using it to give her hell if she does decide to kill me, but if I end up a hero well that's just great. I hate having to use it since it's so cowardly, but it's deterred her from chasing me which is well worth the self-shame.

I pant and fight to catch my breath. The girl is out of breath as well, but she's smiling and grips the bloodied knife in her hand.

"That's no fun…" she breathes in a soft voice. "... but I guess that wound… is enough for now."

One of her eyes is covered by her hair, but I make eye contact with the other one. "Where did… you get that knife…?"

She giggles in a way that's so joyous it gives me chills. "You don't need to know…!"

At that moment, I'm actually _relieved _to hear another pixie approaching. They must have been drawn over by my yelling, or perhaps our loudness in general.

It's a girl, with white hair pulled into a side ponytail and striking violet eyes. I immediately note that she is dressed _terribly _for a game of mutual killing, seeing the silver bangles around her wrist and her strappy high heels that have been pinned with red roses on the buckles. A snow leopard print scarf is wrapped around her neck, partially covering up the top of her white sundress, and I gotta say she's not very busty at all—in fact, she's rather flat chested.

For some reason, she has a knife as well. Have I missed something? Why do they both have weapons? Her gaze is fixated upon me, or more specially, the wound on my shoulder.

"Oh Homura, did you already catch one?" she asks in a gentle tone, making her way towards me step by step. Is that the bitch's name? Wait, how do they even know each other?

The girl dressed in lolita, "Homura", giggles again. "Indeed I did, Akane."

This is unnerving. It's obvious by now that the two have met before, but they have me surrounded on both sides of the walkway and I doubt I can slip past one of them without taking a serious hit.

"Good," Akane says, brandishing her knife and pretending to swing at my face. "Maybe we can't kill her, but we can have some _fun, _right?"

Fun? These two… they must have been partners with a mutual interest.

They're both sadistic, and their new plaything is me.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>AN: Though I have chosen most of the characters already, there are still two slots that I have not filled in. Gender does not matter. The official roster will likely be published next chapter, or whenever Sparrow meets the headmaster. I am looking for a large assortment of personalities, especially ones that will make their mark on the reader and add variety to the story.

Some of you may have noticed by the end of this chapter that Sparrow seems overly paranoid. This is all part of her character. If another character had been the protagonist, they would have seen her as an overly cautious, paranoid, and belligerent character. This is simply the story through her eyes.

Alas, I dislike introduction chapters but they are necessary. Hopefully I haven't made the characters faceless names, as many SYOCs unintentionally do.


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